


Musings in the Fog

by AFilthyCasual



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Crack, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, One Shot Collection, Other, POV First Person, Randomness, The Doctor is an asshole, glitterbombs are funny, just a prank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-04 05:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13357176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFilthyCasual/pseuds/AFilthyCasual
Summary: Some random thoughts that coalesced into stories. Most of these originated as brain-smut but turned into something else when I wrote them. If I end up doing smut versions, it'll be in a different "work"





	1. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I went to the woods with every intention of dying. What I found there changed me forever.

I had gone out to the woods that night with every intention of dying. For as long as I could remember, I'd never really known what it was to be happy. There wasn't anything in particular wrong with my life. In the grand scheme of things, I'd had it pretty good. I always made good grades in school. My parents were proud of me and always supported me in everything I did. After graduation, I'd gotten a job I really enjoyed, as much as I could enjoy something. Even my love life hadn't been a complete mess. Still, I always felt somehow empty. There was a hollowness in my chest that ached constantly, and every day, it was a little bit worse.

  
I had gone out to the woods with every intention of dying. I was going to disappear. I honestly hoped that my body would never be found, that way my parents and friends could always have some hope that maybe I was living it up on a beach somewhere. As the fog closed in on me in my trek into the woods, I felt something in the air change. The moonlight seemed to grow darker, and I felt like I was being watched. I came to a crumbling building that I knew, for a fact, was nowhere near my apartment.

  
I cautiously approached the strange structure, then chuckled at my own trepidation. Should I enter it and it collapse on top of me, I'd simply have accomplished my goal in a different way than I'd planned. As I crossed the threshold, I heard the sound of a generator softly chugging, and the turn of a wrench. I was not alone here.

  
Having no desire to interact with another person, I turned to leave, only to come face to face with a behemoth of a man clad in blue coveralls, a white mask, and holding the biggest kitchen knife I'd ever seen in my life. He stared down at me, and I stared back. I should have been afraid. Some animal instinct of self-preservation should have moved me to run, but instead, I felt drawn to him.

  
As I approached, he raised his knife. I reached out and closed my hands over his, angling the knife directly towards my heart. I stared directly into the dark eyes of the mask, silently pleading him to do it and end my suffering once and for all. The man actually started to tremble. He was so eager to stab me before he knew I wanted it, yet was somehow unnerved by my willingness to die. He lifted his other hand and stroked my cheek with a feather-light touch.

  
I closed my eyes with a sigh and I leaned into his palm. I felt the tip of the blade move away from my chest and his arm wrapped around me. The embrace caught me off-guard, but I relaxed into him, and let out a soft sob as a lifetime of misery bubbled to the surface. Gentle hands stroked my hair. He lifted me off my feet, and I clung to him like a drowning man clings to a log in a storm. We descended to a dark basement, in the center, a monstrous shrine of death. Was this how he would dispatch me?

  
It was not to be. The man set me gently on the floor. I opened my mouth to protest, but he put a single finger on my lips, a polite request to stay quiet. I nodded. I started to stand when a gentle hand on my shoulder pushed me back down. He wanted me to stay. I nodded once more. He had work to do and would deal with me later. I would wait for him, my masked angel, my savior.

  
The seconds ticked by like years. In the distance, generators flared to life. I could hear distant screaming. The masked killer I found myself so enamored with was giving to others what I wished. I couldn't help but feel bitter. After only a few minutes, he returned. Blood stained his outfit, and a streak of the sticky, red substance was splashed across his mask. It had been a good hunt, it seemed.

  
I reached out a shaking hand towards him, and he took it in his own. Where he would lead, I would follow. We entered the Fog, and I found myself surrounded. There were some with masks, and others without, but they all bore imposing, even frightening appearances. A man with a hideously deformed face and a chainsaw. A woman of small stature, but with a fearsome claw. A creature who seemed to have sticks and twigs growing out of his mud-caked head. They all stood in a circle around a firepit that bore no flames; only thick, black smoke. I looked to the man who had led me here, and he nodded. Without even knowing why, I stepped into the smoke.

  
A voice spoke in words I didn't know, but somehow understood. It was the being who ruled this realm. It had brought me here, sensing my despair, and instructed its servant to test if I had any hope left in my heart.

  
I had none.

  
The being knew. My reaction to its servant had been a quiet resolve, a wish to die. In this realm, however, death did not truly exist. I would never find the release I craved here; nor would I ever be allowed to leave.

  
My mind screamed furiously back at the Entity that surrounded me. I had no hope, nothing to give. Why not let me leave and find my own release elsewhere?

  
But I did have something to give, it explained. It would fill that void inside me with something I never knew I needed: a lust for blood. I would hunt for Eternity, and that hole inside me would be filled with the thrill of the hunt, the lust for blood, and I would luxuriate in my vitcims' screams.

  
A smoldering object manifested before me; a curved blade. All I had to do to join the hunt and find my purpose, my true calling, was accept this gift of the Fog. With a trembling hand, I took the handle of the sickle and felt the transformation begin. I became the person I was always meant to be; a shade clad in darkness. The emptiness I felt all my life was suddenly filled with the desire to kill.

  
The fog receded, and I found myself standing in an empty firepit surrounded by my fellow killers. Those without masks could be seen smiling, and those whose faces were hidden nodded a solemn greeting. No words were necessary between us; we all understood. I looked towards the man-- No, the Shape -- who had brought me here, and smiled.


	2. At Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets tired sometimes.

I'd been walking for what felt like days, but so far, I'd never once seen the sun rise. It couldn't have been that long. I had no idea how I'd gotten so lost. I'd gone for moonlit walks in the woods behind my house more times than I could count, but this seemed like somewhere else far away from anything I knew.

  
My trek had taken me through misty forests. Occasionally, I'd see a campfire flickering not too far off, but I'd always been too afraid to see who might be there. In this unfamiliar place, unfamiliar people could have any intentions, and I wasn't willing to risk it. If I could find people in the morning, I'd definitely feel safer in approaching.

  
At one point, the woods had broken and I'd wandered around a junkyard for a while, a walled-in place that I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how I'd entered. The whole thing was walled off. Eventually, I'd come to a massive gateway that stood open and gone through. There was another campfire, or maybe the same one, in the distance. I skirted it carefully, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Morning had to be coming soon, right?

  
My feet and back ached from walking for so long, and my eyes felt heavy as I found myself on what looked like a suburban street. The houses were wrong, though. Too small. Too much the same. None of them had doors, and there was no glass in the windows. Cautiously, I entered one. It was definitely wrong. This strange facsimile of a house had no kitchen, no bathrooms, no bedrooms. There was a couch, though, and it looked so inviting. I yawned sleepily, the crushing weight of my exhaustion urging me to sit down.

  
It wasn't the softest couch I'd ever sat on, but it was more than enough to make me all the more aware of the pain in my body and the exhaustion that I felt down to my bones. I let myself stretch out, and before I knew it, I fell asleep.

 

* * *

  
Three down, one to go. Evan McMillan watched as the Entity took the body of his latest victim skyward, and went to search out the last survivor. Thankfully, the crows alerted him to their location. Whoever it was had to be scared stiff to stay still long enough for the Entity's servants to start circling inside the Entity's crude facsimile of The Shape's house.

  
Evan raised his clever, eager to sink it into the skin of this new survivor, one he'd never seen before, then stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. She wasn't cowering in a corner or hiding in a locker; she was asleep. Her chest rose and fell with even breaths, and her face was completely relaxed. He approached, unsure of what to make of this. He'd never seen one of them asleep in a trial before.

  
He put the blade to her throat, and she didn't even flinch. Not a ruse, then. She was definitely, soundly asleep. He set the cleaver down and sighed. Where was the fun in slicing up someone who wasn't even awake to feel it? There was no sport in it. He put a hand on her shoulder and tried to jostle her awake, but was met with only a soft grumble followed by more even breathing.

  
Despite his annoyance at his prey being completely unconscious, he had to admit to himself, she looked peaceful. He carefully lifted up her head, and slid underneath, taking a seat and providing her a pillow with his legs. This action was met with a contented sigh, then she rolled over and nuzzled her face into his stomach. He didn't have a name for the sensation that was spreading through him. It was warm and light, completely alien compared to his usual state of murderous rage.

  
A sudden heaviness hit him. How long had it been since he'd just sat down? He'd barely noticed the passage of time when trials came quickly and he was constantly on the hunt. Before he had time to even contemplate what was happening, his chin was resting on his chest and his eyes closed.

 

* * *

  
As I dredged myself back to consciousness, I felt the arm resting on my shoulder and the leg beneath my head. I could smell a mix of sweat and blood that should have alarmed me, but my half-asleep brain couldn't muster up the will to feel afraid. How long had I been asleep, and who was there with me?

  
My eyes fluttered open to see the dark, leathery material. I adjusted my position to see a white mask slumped down over my own. Behind the mask, the stranger's eyes were closed, and he was breathing evenly. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who'd been unable to resist the lure of a nap, but had I really been that tired that I'd slept through him moving me enough to get under me?

  
But who was to say I was even really awake? Now that I thought about it, it made sense that this whole situation was a dream. I'd gone from the familiar woods of my home to some mystery woods I'd never seen before, then to a junkyard, back to the mystery woods, and finally this bizarre imitation of a suburban neighborhood. It seemed so obvious now; I was in a dream. I let myself relax as I stared up at the mask of the sleeping stranger when he began to stir.

 

* * *

  
Evan awakened to the sight of wide eyes staring up at him. She didn't even have the courtesy of looking scared. She just smiled sleepily up at him, then nuzzled his stomach again, wrapping her arms around his waist. His whole body went stiff at this wholely unprecedented reaction to his presence.

  
Running, screaming, begging, sure. Those were to be expected. A sleepy smile and a hug were two things the trapper had never expected. For lack of any idea what to do in response, he ran his fingers through the girl's hair, returning the affectionate gesture. He had to admit to himself, it felt good. It wasn't the same thrill as killing, but it was a quieter form of excitement. It was soft and warm, just like the girl with her head in his lap. Still, he had to finish his work. Surely the Entity was already annoyed with him for his lethargy.

  
With a feeling somewhere between resignation and anticipation, he picked up his cleaver from where it rested at his feet.

 

* * *

  
I had to admit, of all the dreams I'd had, this was the strangest one. The leathery clothing and the grinning white mask were not things my mind had ever conjured before. Still, I understood that dreams were weird and it wouldn't be the first time I'd imagined something alien to me. The man leaned down and picked something up. I glanced to see what it was, and my eyes fell upon a rusty cleaver.

  
So, this dream was to become a nightmare. I scoffed in exasperation but resolved not to allow fear to infect what had been a somewhat pleasant dream. Being aware that it was a dream, after all, would give me some level of control over the direction it headed. The only way I could think of to deflect the fear was just to resign to where this dream seemed to be heading. I decided to take control back by asking a simple question.

 

* * *

  
"Are you going to kill me now?"

  
She didn't sound afraid. Evan took a second to absorb the simple statement. So, she was aware of his intentions but was somehow still not afraid. Even the most hardened survivors, the ones who had been in the Entity's Grasp long before even he'd been drawn into the web, still feared at least the pain of the sacrifice.

  
He set the blade to her throat, but made no move to cut, staring only into the girl's eyes looking for any trace of fear. He was met with a scowl of annoyance. "Well, get on with it, then. If this is where this dream is heading, I'd like to wake up now."

 

* * *

  
My second statement was met with the eyes behind the mask getting wide and a low, rumbling laugh. My own dream was laughing at me. I scowled back at him and let my face ask the question burning in my mind. After all, a dream should know what I'm thinking.

  
A deep voice from behind the mask began to speak, "You think this is a dream? That's a new one. Every one of you I've seen before has been scared, looking for a way out. I don't think anyone's ever called it a dream before."

  
"Well, what else could it be?" I replied, "I went for a walk in the woods and things stopped making sense. It has to be a dream."

  
I suddenly felt a sharp pain as the blade cut through my skin. A small, warm dripping sensation told me I was bleeding. It was at this moment I felt my first real tremble of fear.

  
"Does this feel like a dream?" he asked rhetorically.

  
I struggled to move, to get away, but his arms tightened around me in a vice-like grasp. As he stood, I was lifted up and thrown over his shoulder, which I now saw was covered in dirt and penetrated by jagged metal hooks. He walked quickly and with purpose while I struggled helplessly against him. He lifted me from his shoulder, and white-hot pain exploded as the hook impaled me.

 

* * *

  
Evan McMillan watched as The Entity took the new survivor away. He was satisfied with his work and felt an odd sort of extra satisfaction at having witnessed contentment turn to fear. Still, it had been a good rest with her by his side. He wondered, briefly, if she would be amenable to taking another nap some other time. Perhaps he'd even let her go.

  
The thought made him smile. Probably not, but it was still a nice thought.


	3. Who you really are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael Myers joins the Entity's Realm. Based on a little headcanon I developed because it irks me when I see a story that unmasks him.
> 
> Disclaimer: I haven't seen any of the Halloween movies. I did do some research on the character and his motivations. I decided to nix the whole "druid curse" garbage because it seems that, even in the original movies, he actually loved his little sister and wanted to come home to her, but she got scared and attacked him first. Again, this is based on some light research and talking to people who told me they had seen the movies. I could be completely off-base.

Michael would follow Laurie wherever she ran to; that was certain. He would find her. He would kill her. Laurie had betrayed him and she would never be forgiven. This time, she'd run to the woods, perhaps hoping that he wouldn't be able to find her outside of the town they called home. It wasn't going to work. He would track her down and she would know pain.

The fog was growing more heavy and oppressive. A lesser man would have been afraid. Not Michael, though. He continued on with his one, singular purpose. That's when he saw her. Laurie's outline was hazy in the distance, but he knew it was her. He tightened his grip on his knife and quickened his pace.

She was coming into focus now, but something was wrong. She was unconscious and being held up by strange, spider-like appendages, and no matter how close he got, she was always just out of reach. He stabbed angrily at the fog surrounding him when he heard a voice.

Maybe it was more like multiple voices. Either way, Michael didn't know what language it was speaking, but he somehow understood anyway. This thing, this Entity, had Laurie. It wanted Michael, too.

Michael saw visions of people running from killers, screaming as they were placed on meathooks. He watched blood drip from their bodies and the light fade from their eyes as they were taken; sacrificed. He saw those same people awaken next to a roaring fire. Some of them talked to one another. Others kept to themselves. Four would be marked for the Trial and pit against another killer. Michael could be that killer.

Laurie was joining the survivors by the fire whether Michael agreed or not. What the entity offered was the chance to kill her over and over again. For Michael, it wasn't even a question. He agreed.

The fog closed in tighter, completely blocking out Michael's vision and he felt a searing pain in his face. The voices spoke and he understood; some modifications were required. His whole body was in agony now and a scream tore itself from his throat as his bones cracked under the pressure. His face was the worst. It felt like his entire head was on fire. Michael tried to struggle, but it was as if he was in a void. There was nothing to struggle against.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. He was allowed to see a reflection of himself. He looked the same. He tilted his head slightly trying to discern what "modifications" he'd undergone. Michael had never been a small man, but his body was somehow even larger now. His bones were stronger, muscles tighter. As he looked closely at the reflection he noticed something else: he could not see his eyes behind his signature mask.

He leaned into the reflection squinting. The eyes of the mask squinted back. Michael recoiled at the sight and his hand went to his face. In the reflection, he saw himself touching the mask, but he felt warm skin under his fingers, and his fingers against his cheek. It was his mask, but somehow his mask was not his face. The voices came again and explained.

**This is who you really are. You are a killer. You are the mask you wear. Take your blade and show them the meaning of pain and fear. Give them hope that they might escape you, then snuff it out.**

Michael smiled. The mask in the mirror smiled back.


	4. Carter's Boredom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Carter gets bored sometimes. (This is pure crack.)

Herman was restless. He hadn't gotten a trial in a while. The Trapper had taken his turn, then the Nurse, and even Billy had gotten a few chances to run around, but mostly the new girl was out in the field. Herman hated being idle more than anything else, and he made a decision that he would not let boredom get the best of him.

  
He could take the secret path down to the survivors' camp and screw with them, but that was heavily frowned-upon, and should he make life down there too difficult, the Entity would bench him indefinitely. That left his fellow killers. Of course, the Entity made it impossible for the killer to do any real harm to one another, but that didn't mean me couldn't mess with them, but who to mess with?  
Certainly not The Wraith. That man was far too gentle of a soul at his core and would provide very limited entertainment. He didn't want to mess with the Hillbilly too much, as he'd already pilfered some supplies from the man for personal use. The Nurse was already a wreck from her previous life. He could try messing with Michael, but Herman had to admit that the silent behemoth actually unnerved HIM a little. Leatherface had the mind of a child and Herman found those creatures to be profoundly boring. That left the Huntress, the Hag, the Nightmare, and the new girl as possible targets.

  
Herman had a plan, and he set out to make it a reality. First, however, a trip to his Hospital. The Entity was kind enough to recreate it with enough accuracy that it still felt like home, but also added a few improvements. First of all, it had access to wifi and the printers all worked, somehow, without ever needing to have the ink or paper refilled. That was instrumental to his plan.

 

* * *

  
Amanda was careful, cunning, and most of all, she paid attention. She was spending a great deal of time in trials, but in between, she noticed certain patterns. A bottle of oil goes missing. The next day, the Doctor and the Trapper come back to the darkened pit together and the trapper has a slight limp. The Doctor stops spending as much time in the central hub and starts staking out the little private areas that each killer makes for themselves. She catches him on the cameras she put up in all the other zones printing off a lot of documents in his hospital. The Doctor was up to something, and it was separate from his newly-started affair with the long-standing veteran.

  
Amanda, however, also knew how to stay hidden, far better than Herman Carter could ever hope to. The other killers might be blind to his comings and goings, but Amanda paid attention. She waited, biding her time, pretending everything was normal until she caught him setting up the first of his pranks. As it turned out, he wasn't so unobservant as the others. He knew about her surveillance, if not the full extent of it, and he was tampering with her cameras. She watched from the shadows as he changed the feed on the main monitor to what was currently playing on one of his hospital computers: Hardcore gay porn.

  
She chose her moment well. As Herman surveyed his work chuckling to himself, Amanda burst from her hiding place, pinning him to the desk from which she watched everything that happened in the various realms.

  
"You think you're funny, do you?" she asked quietly, then recoiled with a shriek as a jolt of electricity went through her.

  
"Dear woman, don't be too upset," he said with a grin, "It's only a prank, and you're not the only one I have plans for."

  
Amanda nodded, her smile hidden behind her mask, "SO you want to play a game outside the games. I think I can help. Did you know that the Gideon Meat Factory is still capable of receiving deliveries?"  
Static rolled of the Doctor as he laughed. This was going to be even better than he'd thought. Naturally, he wasn't going to do anything to really harm the others, but the chaos spread by a couple of harmless pranks would be astounding.

 

* * *

  
Lisa arrived back at the killer camp after having taken a trip to the Grim Pantry for some supplies. All her things appeared untouched. She set the pot to boiling and opened up her familiar cookbook to her favorite recipe and started making her granma's signature stew.

  
It didn't take long for Lisa to realize something was very, very wrong. Lentils. Carrots. Celery. TOFU? Where was the meat? Where were the spices? What was this bland, vegetarian crap? Lisa flipped through the cookbook finding nothing but the same vegetable-and-tofu based recipes before furiously realizing that all of her granma's recipes had been taken out of the book's cover, and the cover had been placed over a series of different recipes.

  
She stalked over to the blackened firepit that the killers congregated around between trial. "Who... THE FUCK... has been touching my things?" she snarled angrily.

  
Mostly blank faces stared back, but a few things out of the ordinary caught her eye as some of the others spoke up. First was the Nightmare.

  
"Probably the same son of a bitch who replaced all my clothes," he said, sounding furious. Freddy Kreuger was a simple man of simple needs and usually wore the same thing every day, but today he was wearing a bright pink "Hello Kitty" sweater and his signature hat was missing.

  
The Hillbilly nodded, "Oil for chainsaw. Been going missing. Happens for long time now."

  
The Trapper got up and walked away stiffly. Did he know something? Lisa hadn't taken him for a prankster. Evan McMillan was all business all the time, or so she'd thought. Had he...? She dismissed the thought. Evan might know something, but there was no way he was the culprit.

  
A furious yell took Lisa out of her thoughts, and Anna came to the blackened pit with murder in her eyes and glitter covering her face and body. Lisa tilted her head at the large woman leaving the silent question hanging in the air.

  
"Found box. It say 'open me' on front, so I open. Next thing, giant cloud of THIS come bursting out and will not come off," the woman's thick, Russian accent was even more pronounced when she was upset, and Lisa could certainly see how a glitter bomb would rattle her.

  
Lisa nodded, "It seems we have a prankster in our midst. I, for one, don't find it that funny. Let's work together to find him... And hurt him."  
Billy shrugged, "Just oil. Not a big deal," and went back to cleaning his chainsaw.

  
Freddy and Anna, however, nodded in agreement, and the three started making plans about how to catch the prankster and make whoever it was pay.


End file.
